


Words

by SushiOwl



Series: Cam Shows [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Bottom Derek Hale, Butt Plugs, Drinking, Drinking Games, Exhibitionism, Lace Panties, M/M, Masks, POV Derek Hale, Rough Sex, Spanking, Stockings, Submission, Top Stiles Stilinski, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, Webcams, borderline somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:56:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiOwl/pseuds/SushiOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a party, some swimming and lots of sex. Derek has something to tell Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by [WhatTheHale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale).
> 
> Direct sequel to the rest of the series.
> 
> Holy shit. xD I took forever to write this freaking thing, didn't I? At least it's 12+k words. *innocent face* Hope you like it!

“So what time are you coming in?” Derek asked over the line as he picked up a bottle off the shelf and inspected it. 

“I'll be there around five,” Stiles said in his ear. “Had some last minutes drama with subletting my apartment. Everything's a-okay now though. I'm happy to be going back to Beacon Hills.”

“Ready to see your dad?” Derek put the bottle in his cart and leaned his hip against the handle bar. 

“Ready to see you, and you know it. Stop fishing.” Stiles didn't really sound annoyed, more amused.

Derek could admit to himself that that was exactly what he was doing. “You saw me last weekend.” 

Stiles huffed into his ear. “Having you all to myself for a Saturday doesn't really compare to three months. It'll be even better than Spring Break.”

Humming in agreement, Derek picked up another bottle to inspect. It was finally summertime, which meant Stiles was coming home through three whole months. And he was staying with Derek that entire time. Derek was beyond excited. He couldn't wait to wake up next to Stiles over and over again, to just know that he was there and they didn't have to part any time soon.

In addition to Stiles, the rest of the pack was coming back to Beacon Hills. He was looking forward to seeing them all. Scott was bringing his girlfriend, Kira, home to meet his mom and the pack. He and Scott had had a long discussion about him telling Kira what he was, and it had turned out fine. Apparently she was a kitsune, which Derek just accepted at face value because, why not?

Danny was coming home with Ethan and Aiden in tow. How he'd managed to keep two ex-alpha werewolves in line and through school, Derek would never know, but he was impressed. 

Lydia was flying in from MIT, and she was bringing Jackson with her. Derek pretended that he didn't really care about the circumstances that led to Jackson moving from London to Massachusetts to be with Lydia when no one had heard hide nor hair of him for years. Really Derek wanted to ask who, what, when, where and why. He'd let Stiles ask the questions and make sure to be nearby to hear the answers.

Isaac was traveling up from SoCal. There had been a moment of juggling because Isaac hadn't been sure where he was going to stay, and Derek hadn't wanted to tell him that he couldn't stay at the loft because he wanted to have loud sex with Stiles, on every surface and sometimes on camera. Thankfully Melissa had swooped like a mama bird and told him he could stay at the McCall house.

With everyone in one place, Derek decided to celebrate them all completing another year of college, so he was throwing a party at his loft.

A woman came over the loud speaker, announcing a sale on a certain kind of wine, and Derek put the bottle he was holding into the cart.

“Where are you?” Stiles asked, puzzled. “Are you shopping?”

“Yeah,” Derek said as he turned down an aisle. “I'm at BevMo.”

Stiles paused, and Derek could practically hear the gears in his head stuttering. “What are you doing there?”

“Buying underwear,” Derek said with a snort and a smile. “What do you think?”

“Well, seeing as BevMo sells alcohol, you must be there for some other reason. Are you buying one of those pretentious cheese and meat plates and a bottle of wine? Are you gonna be that guy?”

Derek rolled his eyes. He did actually need to buy some wine. Lydia was probably a wine drinker. “No, I'm buying alcohol, a lot of it. It's for the party.”

“But,” Stiles started, and Derek could see him squinting incredulously in his mind. “Werewolves can't get drunk. Scott once drank like half a bottle of Jack and wasn't affected.” He huffed out a laugh at the memory. “I got smashed though.”

Derek rolled his eyes affectionately. “Werewolves _can_ get drunk.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Derek grabbed the largest bottle of Barcardi white rum. “They just need a little help.”

* * *

“This is aconite,” Derek said, holding up a medium sized mason jar filled with a clear liquid for his surrounding pack to look at. They where all standing in his kitchen, gathered around the island, which was covered in bottles of liquor. The wine was on the counter, and the beer was in the fridge. “It suppresses a werewolf's metabolism enough to allow them to get drunk.”

“What's it made out of?” Stiles asked as he took the jar and turned it over in his hands.

“Tincture of wolfsbane,” Derek replied, watching him. He rather liked Stiles's hands.

Everybody looked at each other, and Derek lifted his brows, obviously missing something. He didn't miss the way Lydia looked down guiltily though. “What?” he asked.

“Last time we had drinks spiked with wolfsbane,” Scott began slowly. “We all hallucinated some pretty weird stuff.” He put his arm around Kira as she pressed into his side.

Ah. Now he knew what they were all thinking of: Lydia's seventeenth birthday party. He distinctly remembered getting wolfsbane powder blown in his face. He looked at Lydia again, and she was tracing the wood grain on the island top with one manicured finger. He remembered being so pissed at her for helping Peter be resurrected. Of course he'd known she was being controlled, but he'd been bitter and angry. He opened his mouth to say something, anything to ease her guilt, but Stiles cleared his throat and spoke first.

“I'm sure Derek wouldn't give us anything like that,” he said lightly, still holding the jar like a treasure.

“You don't need it,” Derek told him, smiling as Stiles stuck his tongue out at him. He plucked the jar from his hands and set it on the island. “Just the werewolves.” He glanced at Kira and straightened up. “I don't know about you though. Sorry.”

“That's okay,” she said immediately, eyes flicking down as she dragged her bottom lip through her teeth. “I don't know how alcohol affects me. I've never drank before.”

“If you can't get drunk, I won't either,” Scott told her, giving her such an intense look of devotion that Derek had to force his eyes not to roll. 

Kira grinned at him, leaning in to bump their noses together. “But I want you to have fun.”

“I will if you're here,” he told her with a smile, and this time Derek could stop himself.

He wasn't the only one though. “Gag,” Stiles said, before he grabbed one of the two bags of red plastic cups to rip it open. “Alright, let's get this party started.” He started to hand out cups when a banging came from the door. Stiles looked at Derek. “Are you expecting someone else?”

“It's probably the pizzas,” Derek said with a shrug, leaving the pack to start the process of getting shitfaced and heading for the door. He pulled out his wallet to ready the money for the pizza delivery guy and grabbed the handle of the heavy door, yanking it open. Then he just stared. This wasn't pizza.

“Hi, Derek,” Allison said, offering him a smile. She looked good, maybe even taller. Her hair was short, cut close to her head, which was a good look, just...different.

“Uh, hi,” he said rather dumbly.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and shoved her hands into her back pockets. “Lydia told me you were throwing a party. I don't mean to show up unannounced, but we were in Washington, so I asked my dad if I could drive down.” He pressed her lips together and swallowed. “I just wanted to see everyone. Is that okay?”

Before Derek could answer, the actual pizza guy came out of the elevator and walked up to the door. He looked between Allison and Derek and took on the expression of someone that just walked into a puddle of awkwardness. “Uh,” he said, holding up his bags. “Two cheese, two pepperoni, two supreme and two meat lovers for Derek Hale?”

Derek jerked out of his silence. “That's me,” he said, before he stepped out of the loft. “Go ahead, Allison. Everyone will be happy to see you.” He nodded to her as she gave him a smile, before he turned to the pizza guy. Soon he heard elated shouts of 'Allison!'

The party picked up pretty easily after everyone got over the shock of Allison showing up. They chowed down on pizza and mixed drinks, everyone sharing stories about what college life was like. Lydia and Kira were both in sororities, so they chatted what it was like living in a house full of girls. Jackson wanted to know if there were lingerie pillow fights, and he received a double glare as Stiles and Scott looked very interested in their drinks like they haven't been curious too.

Ethan and Aiden apparently went to classes for each other when one of them just didn't want to. Danny rolled his eyes upward upon hearing this, like he was praying for serenity. He then told them he was not going to hack into the college's database to alter their grades when they failed.

Scott and Kira were doing the same major, and they'd met in one of the required courses they both had to take. Apparently Scott had been walking up the steps to get to the desks and tripped, spilling his books all over the place. Kira had been the one to rush over and help him. Then they'd sat together and had been inseparable ever since. Wasn't that just disgustingly cute?

Isaac was doing well at his university. He really liked what he was studying, which was foreign languages. He wanted to be a translator. French had been his best subject in high school, so he was starting with that. Next was either Spanish or Italian, he hadn't decided yet.

Stiles launched into a story about one of his classes, something about code writing. Derek was failing to pay about because one and a half mixed drinks in his system, was feeling quite warm and content, and Stiles's emphatic gesturing and full, moving lips caught his attention more than what was coming out of his mouth. He should probably feel bad about that, but chances were he'd heard this story before. Stiles tended to tell him everything.

Derek had left the subject of party games to Stiles, since he was pretty lost when it came to that. Stiles had brought over his Xbox and set up a game called Rock Band, complete with two guitars, a microphone, a drum set and a keyboard. He'd said he had thought about bringing over Dance Central, but he thought better of it. Derek didn't know what he meant when he said it would have been a bitch to calibrate the Kinect, but anything with alcohol and dancing sounded like it would end in broken bones.

After some negotiation, Lydia ended up as lead guitar with Kira on bass. Scott was on drums and Isaac had control of the keyboard. Stiles claimed the microphone for himself, which was sure to be interesting because he was flushed and grinning like a goober. Derek thought about joining Jackson, Allison, Danny, Ethan and Aiden in their apparently uproariously funny game of Cards Against Humanity, but he wanted to see Stiles navigate the vocal scale while tipsy. 

Stiles didn't disappoint. He wailed his way through Styx's Come Sail Away, hitting some pretty interesting notes that probably only dogs and werewolves could hear. By the end of it he was gasping and everyone else in the band was bent over their instruments, laughing too hard to play. They passed the song, but only barely. Derek could barely breathe. He was snickering into the edge of his cup, thinking 'ah yes, that's my boyfriend.'

"Hey, don't laugh at me," Stiles said as he walked over to the couch where Derek was sitting as everyone else switched instruments. "I'm amazing." He picked up his cup from the coffee table and drank from it heavily.

"You're something alright." Derek smiled, watching him.

Stiles wobbled a little then offered Derek the mic. "Your turn."

Derek stared at it a moment before slowly lifting his eyes to Stiles's grinning face. "That's not going to happen."

It happened. Derek tried to resist, and he was doing a pretty good job at looking at Stiles's wide puppy dog eyes and pouty lip and saying no. But then Scott got in on it, doubling the effect, and Derek pressed back against the couch, starting to growl at them. Then Isaac came over and he was just too pitiful. Derek groaned and snatched the microphone.

"Just one," he told them as he stood up so he could see the screen better. He probably wouldn't have agreed to this if he was totally sober, but he was feeling good and was happy to be around his pack.

They let him pick the song, which was good because he probably didn't know most of the available list. But as he looked through it he found lots of 80s songs that he knew by heart. As he picked Foreplay/Long Time by Boston, he heard Stiles giggle behind him. He had known Derek would like that one, he said, and that was why he downloaded it.

Derek didn't mind singing. He liked it, really. He tended to blare music in his car and sing along, especially on those three hour trips to UC Berkeley. He was thankful for his tinted windows. He was comfortable with the sound of his own voice. But he didn't sing in public, and he didn't know if other people wouldn't mind his voice. 

He watched the others as they played the long intro to the song. The way Lydia played the keyboard looked professional, and it wouldn't put it past her to have some actual training. Scott and Kira were on the guitars, their shoulders pressed together as they looked close to breaking down into giggles. The cherry vodka that Kira was drinking in Sprite was definitely affecting her, and Scott looked in a similar state. Isaac was boredly tapping the kick drum pedal as he waited for some actual notes.

Derek nearly missed his cue. Once he started singing, he just focused on the screen, on the octave indication. He let everything else fade away, the clicking of the keyboard, the thrumming of the guitars and the hits of the drums. It was just him and the long ass notes of the song. They tested his range, and it felt nice to succeed. And least he felt like he was doing well. That could be the drink.

When the song was over, they actually did well, and Derek was satisfied. He turned around to give Stiles the mic back and halted when he found everyone looking at him. Even the ones playing cards in the corner were turned around to face the game. Derek looked at them all and tried to gruffly ask, "What?" but it came out as a kind of squeak.

"Where in the world did that come from?" Lydia asked in a breathy way.

Derek didn't answer, and his face felt hot in a way that had nothing to do with the rum and Cokes he'd been drinking. He held out the mic for Stiles to take, but Stiles set his fingers against his knuckles and pushed the mic back.

"I don't think so, big guy. We deserve more of you singing." Stiles's grin was wicked.

"Yeah, encore!" Allison called out, looking happy and relaxed and _drunk_. She must have been just as happy as he was to be in the company of her friends.

"Better do it, Derek," Lydia crooned. "Or we're liable to start chanting."

Derek couldn't have that. He was too tipsy to handle anymore peer pressure. So he sang some more. This time Stiles picked the songs, showing him all the ones he'd downloaded specifically for Derek. First he sang Carry On My Wayward Son by Kansas, and he gave Lydia a weird look as she whimpered something about some guys named Dean and Sam. Next Stiles picked We Didn't Start The Fire by Billy Joel, which Derek totally flubbed and started laughing partway through, and they all failed spectacularly. He 'whoa-oh-oh-oh'ed his way through Sweet Child O' Mine by Guns N' Roses. Lastly was The Sweet's Ballroom Blitz, because they might as well go out with some ridiculousness. After that Derek needed a _drink_.

“Stiles, refill?” Derek asked after handing the mic off to Kira so she could take a turn then grabbing onto his own cup.

“Oh, yeah,” Stiles said, grabbing his drink and knocking back the rest of it before handing the cup over to him.

Derek took the cup and headed toward the kitchen as the people that were playing cards and the ones that were playing Rock Band switched places. He set the cups on the counter and picked up the rum bottle, before he stopped, thinking. Stiles had once told him his guilty pleasure girly drink was a mai tai, so Derek had bought a drink recipe book at BevMo then picked up the ingredients. Stiles would probably like it if Derek made one for him. Now he just had to locate said recipe book. 

"Derek?"

He turned around from looking in a cabinet and found Lydia standing there. She was barefoot, as liquor + high heels = no. Her faced was flushed pink, which somehow went with her red hair instead of clashing with it, but Lydia was just beautiful like that. She stared at him for a moment before she looked down at her cup, biting her lip. "Can we talk?" 

"Yeah," Derek said, abandoning his search and stepping closer to her. "Sure." He leaned his hip against the island.

She set her cup down and looked up at him. "It's just... What Peter made me do, how I helped him use you to come back from the dead. I've always felt bad about it." Her eyebrows came together.

Oh this was a heavy conversation to have when he was intoxicated. He swallowed. "I don't blame you."

"But—"

"Not anymore, I mean. I took it out on you even though I knew it wasn't your fault." He took a deep breath and let it out through his nose. "What Peter did to you was totally fucked up." He was an eloquent drunk. "And I'm sorry."

Lydia's eyes turned a little watery, and she laid her fingers over Derek's hand. "Whatever happened to him?"

"I don't know." He sighed. "He just left. He stopped showing up around here, discontinued his phone number and cleaned out his apartment. I haven't heard from him in a long time." He turned his hand to touch Lydia's thumb with his own. "He could be dead."

Lydia's brows went up. "If he is, let's hope he stays that way."

Derek couldn't disagree.

"You two look fucking depressing," Jackson said as he gracelessly swayed into the kitchen and went for the fridge for a beer. "What are you talking about?" He popped the tab and added a couple drops of aconite with an eyedropper. Then he took a giant gulp.

"Old ghosts," Lydia said, before she squeezed Derek's hand. She stepped away, grabbing her cup, a disposable wine glass, and went for the Moscato d'Asti Derek had gotten just for her. Then she sashayed right out, passing by Stiles as she went.

Stiles lifted a brow at her but didn't say anything. He gave Derek a grin. "So, that drink."

"Right," Derek said. "I got distracted." He turned and went back to the counter, moving past Jackson as he went.

Jackson, who was _lingering_. He cleared his throat and Derek turned his ear toward him. "So, you two. That's pretty crazy."

"Not as crazy as you and Lydia. At least we live in the same timezone," Stiles said. "You hopped across the big pond to be with her."

"I missed her," Jackson said in a small voice, before he cleared his throat. "But what about you guys? How'd you end up, y'know, together?"

"You're being awfully curious there, Jackson," Stiles huffed out with a laugh, probably in an attempt to change the subject since the beginning of the truthful answer was 'Well, I have an amateur porn channel where he's watched me jerk off...'

Jackson let out a bark-like noise. "Shut up."

"It's not a very interesting story. We were just talking one day, and we just sort of clicked. It just made sense." Stiles made it sound so benign.

There was a snort from Jackson. "Well, that's boring. How'd you go from that to fucking on camera?"

Derek almost knocked the freshly made mai tai right off the counter when he whipped around to stare at Jackson. The asshole was grinning into the edge of his beer, looking between Derek and a stunned looking Stiles. How the hell had Jackson found out? They had been—well, not exactly discreet, but they weren't exactly famous. They had also worn masks. Derek didn't know how to react to this, but he was having was having thoughts of burying Jackson's body somewhere in preserve where it wouldn't be found.

Stiles recovered first, putting on a smile that Derek didn't understand. "I don't know why it surprises me that you watch gay porn, Jackson."

That made Jackson stop smiling. "I don't—"

"But I guess I should have guessed," Stiles went on, leaning his hips against the island. "What with all that towel snapping in the locker room after lacrosse practice."

"That's not—"

"I guess I should be flattered," Stiles interrupted again. "I'd be more flattered if it weren't kind of creepy."

Jackson's face was turning red. "You—"

"Does Lydia know?"

Derek kind of expected Jackson to crush the can in his hand to abruptly that it erupted like a beer volcano, but he just stared at Stiles like he didn't understand what just happened. It was like he made an impulsive and aggressive move in chess, and Stiles had beat him back again and taken over the board. There was probably a name for that kind of moment. Oh, yeah. _Bitch, please._

"No," Jackson said slowly, testing. "You're not going to tell her, are you?"

"There's not really a situation in which that benefits me," Stiles said lightly as he walked by Jackson and over to Derek. He looked like he was going to say something else but got distracted. "Is that a mai tai? Gimme." He grabbed it and made a happy little noise as he sipped it. "Yeah, that's good stuff." He looked back at Jackson, who was kind of side eying them. "But maybe you should. Tell Lydia, I mean."

"Why would I do that?" 

"She might be into it." Stiles shrugged, swirling his drink in his cup. "You never know. You might end up watching porn together." He gave Jackson a stone cold serious look. "But not our channel. I don't care if you're paying for it. It's weird, and I don't like it. You get me?"

Jackson swallowed and nodded.

Stiles held out his fist. "We cool?"

Jackson looked at Stiles's fist a moment before he lifted his to bump against it. "We're cool."

Leaning back against the counter with his arm pressed against Derek's, Stiles watched Jackson walk out of the kitchen before he took a deep breath and blew it out through his lips. "Of all the people to find out," he said, before he took a large swallow of his drink.

"I definitely wasn't expecting that," Derek told him, feeling smug that Stiles liked the drink he'd made him so much now that he was over the shock of the situation.

"I could tell by your deer-in-headlights face there, big guy.” Stiles leaned in closer, so Derek put his arm around him. “This is a good party. It feels like old times. Y'know, the good times, not the supernatural scary times with all the blood and maiming.” He set his drink down and turned, pressing his front against Derek's, and Derek put his arms around him with a smile. “Everything is good. I feel like I might jinx it by being happy about it, but I can't help it.”

Derek smiled at him, leaning in to kiss him gently. “I'm happy too,” he said, his voice soft. “And for once it doesn't feel like the eye of the storm.” He had his life back together. The pack was safe. He had friends again, not just comrades in battle. He had Stiles and all the wonderfulness that came with him. He hadn't felt this happy, this stable since before the fire.

A slow, sweet smile spread across Stiles's lips, and he bumped his nose against Derek's. “You've gotten all soft in your downtime. You need a zombie apocalypse or something to toughen you back up again.”

Derek's attacked Stiles's sides with his fingers, causing him to squeal. “Don't say that!” he gasped.

Stiles wiggled spastically, laughing hard with his face doing an adorable squish. He managed to get away and nearly stumbled into the island, but Derek grabbed onto his hand. Stiles breathed through the residual giggles, before he grinned at Derek. “Jerk.” He squeezed Derek's fingers before he seemed to notice something that made him perk up. “Is that tequila?” It was. Derek had bought two bottles of it. “Did you get limes too?” Derek had, so he nodded, and Stiles grinned like a cat. “Get cutting then, because once I'm done with this nummy mai tai, we're doing shots!”

“Yay!” Scott called from the living room.

Shots, as it turned out, weren't as difficult as it should have been to organize for eleven people that were already pretty drunk. They managed to get the salt > tequila > lime sequence down, though they got salt all over the floor. They'd all given up on Rock Band and Cards Against Humanity, so Danny had accessed his Pandora account on Stiles's Xbox, which meant everyone was dancing between rounds. 

Derek wasn't dancing. At least, he didn't exactly want to. His limbs were feeling warm and heavy, and he probably couldn't dance even if he wanted to. He wasn't the only one having that problem. Scott and Kira were doing more leaning on each other and swaying than actual dancing. Ethan had his face buried in Danny's neck. Aiden wasn't ever trying to dance. He was just sitting on the couch, sipping a beer with a glazed over expression.

Stiles, on the other hand, was apparently not affected by the downer aspect of alcohol. He was throwing his limbs around in a sort of organized flail, his hips moving to the beat. Mostly. He was sweating, his bangs sticking to his forehead and his Captain America shirt a darker blue in some places. Derek was content to just watch him be ridiculous. It was a good show.

But then Stiles skipped over to him. “Dance with me,” he gasped, grabbing onto Derek's hand and trying to pull him away from the wall and toward the empty area of the loft where everyone else was. 

“Stiles,” Derek said as he was dragged, before he twisted and managed to put his drink on the bookshelf so it didn't end up all over the floor. “I don't dance.” Bob his head and drum his steering wheel along with music in the car, sure, but dance? Not so much.

“Lies,” was Stiles opinion as he got Derek where he wanted him then turned around to lift his arms and wrap them around Derek's neck and put his ass against his crotch, grinding to the beat.

Oh. Derek gasped, ducking his head down to put his lips against Stiles's damp neck. He licked the salt of his sweat away, and Stiles shivered, tipping his head back on Derek's shoulder. Derek took the opportunity to drag his teeth over Stiles's earlobe as everything else faded away. All there was in the world was them and the undulating of their hips. God, he wanted to turn them, press Stiles against the wall and put his hand down the front of his pants—

The song ended, and Stiles stilled, making Derek halt too, and they were both breathing raggedly. They turned their heads at the same time, noses bumping, and Derek grinned as Stiles let out a bubbly laugh. Derek kissed his laughing mouth, catching a lot of teeth until Stiles kissed him back. He felt Stiles's fingers curl in the short hairs on the back of his head, holding him close even though Derek had no plans on going anywhere.

Stiles drew back as yet another song came to a close, a serene little smile on his lips. “Are you trying to make me forget that I'm drinking?” he asked, drawing back. “Because I think we need more shots!” he announced to the room, and everyone else agreed as Derek sighed, but he still followed Stiles into the kitchen.

Derek was glad that his kitchen was big enough to hold this many people, especially when they were all doing more stumbling than walking. At least everyone had someone to lean on. Even Isaac and Allison were using each other as support, which was _interesting._ The only one without someone was Aiden, and he—was not in the room. Derek leaned to look out into the living room and spotted him passed out on the couch.

Everyone had their shot glasses when Stiles stopped, holding the salt shaker and giving it a contemplative look. Then he looked at Derek, his eyes sharp for someone so intoxicated. “Take off your shirt.” When Derek lifted a brow in question at the request, Stiles gave him a crooked smile. “I wanna lick salt off of you.”

With a blink, Derek lifted his hands and tugged his shirt over his head, too drunk to care as he tossed it in a random direction. Stiles was on him immediately, one hand on his hip and his other holding the salt shaker as his eyes scanned over his body, searching for a good place to increase the sodium content. He chose the hollow of his collarbone, extra salt cascading down his front and onto the floor. 

As Stiles was pouring the shot, Derek grabbed one of the wedges of lime and put it between his teeth, juicy part out. Stiles snorted out a laugh at him, before he dragged his tongue in the salt. Derek shivered a little because it kind of tickled. Stiles knocked back the shot and climbed Derek like a tree, devour his mouth and the lime, and Derek backed into the stove in surprise. There was a chorus of 'oooooh' around them as Derek's mouth flooded with lime juice and Stiles's tongue. When Stiles drew back, Derek felt a little dazed, and he watched Stiles pull the last of the fruit from its rind, chewing as he tossed that over his shoulder. 

“Oh! You know what we should do?” Lydia said to the group, and they all looked at her. “Body shots!”

Everything went a little fast after that. Everybody's shirts came off, even the girls. There was lots of licking salt off of each other. Kira burst into hysterical giggles as Scott licked her shoulder, and that made Scott devolve into giggles too, so he almost choked on the tequila before taking the lime from her fingertips. Allison had put a lime between her lips for Isaac after he'd licked tequila out of her cleavage, and now they were just making out.

“You should do a shot off of Danny,” Lydia said as Jackson played with her bra strap.

“Okay, but only if you do one too.” Jackson snapped the strap against her skin lightly.

“Off of who?” Lydia asked with a roll of her eyes. “Allison or Kira?”

Jackson swayed backward, before he looked around at everybody, his eyes half hooded and glazed. “Nah, off of Derek.”

Lydia blinked at that, before she looked over at Derek, who'd been watching the whole exchange as Stiles gnawed at his neck. “Derek,” she said, turning toward him and stumbling a little, which made her laugh. “Can I suck tequila out of your belly button?”

Derek blinked at her. The room was a bit fuzzy at the edges because he'd been going shot for shot with Stiles. “Uh, okay,” he said.

It was probably the weirdest sensation in the world, and Derek was half expecting there to be lipstick on his stomach. But what Lydia had been wearing had worn off on cups and Jackson's mouth. He didn't really think much of the actual act, but Stiles pulled him up off the couch where he'd been lying for easy access and across the room in seconds, mumbling things like 'mine' and 'no touchy' as he glared in Lydia's general direction.

Lydia was too busy giggling into Jackson's shoulder to give a shit.

Now that everyone was completely blasted, they went back to the Rock Band game and proceeded to fail song after song until it was a wee hour in the morning. Danny and Ethan had passed out on the couch with Aiden. Derek managed to blow up the two large inflatable mattresses he'd bought, though balancing on the balls of his feet proved a trial and he ended up on his butt. Scott, Kira, Jackson and Lydia immediately claimed the first mattress. And after Allison was done hurking up her insides in the bathroom, she and Isaac took the other. 

Stiles helped him put blankets on everyone, before they very slowly navigated the spiral staircase. Derek ended up holding onto Stiles's butt in an attempt to keep the both of them upright. When they got to the top, they left a haphazard trail of clothing on the floor and collapsed diagonally on the bed. And that was where they stayed.

* * *

Derek liked the windows in his loft. He liked all the natural light for reading, and his plants certainly appreciated the sun. He especially liked looking through that glass and seeing the big, bright moon, feeling it tug at his wolf.

But he didn't like how fucking bright it was when he opened his eyes. “Oh God no,” he grumbled in a way that the words were hardly coherent. He closed his eyes against the light, turning over and pawing around the bed in search of something to cover his face. His hand whacked skin, and he was confused for a minute, wondering who he just made groan and snuffle, but then he recognized Stiles's sleepy sigh. He belly crawled his way up the bed so his feet weren't hanging off and planted his face in a pillow. Ah, blessed darkness.

The next time he woke up, his head wasn't throbbing nearly as hard and the light didn't assault his eyes. Stiles was right in front of him, snoring soft as a kitten. Derek smiled at him, reaching up to touch his cheek softly. 

Stiles slowly opened his eyes, looking tired with his lids most of the way down and his face smooth and slack with sleepiness. Derek didn't get to see him like this very often. He was usually up and at 'em first thing, while Derek had taken to sleeping in now that he wasn't surrounded by things that wanted to kill him and his. He had to stroke the backs of his fingers across Stiles's cheek, which made him smile a little.

"Mornin'," Stiles mumbled, half into his pillow.

"Mm," was Derek's response as his cupped the side of Stiles's face. "It's afternoon."

Stiles wrinkled up his nose cutely. "Hush, you," he muttered, before he leaned in and Derek moved to meet him, their lips parting in preparation for a kiss.

Then they recoiled from each other, making faces.

"Oh God," Stiles said, reaching up to cover his mouth and nose with his hand. "Is that you or me?" He breathed against his hand and took on a look of disgust.

Derek puffed out a breath against his own hand and sniffed, before he gagged a little. "It's both of us." 

"It smells like stale tequila and _ass_ ," Stiles groaned, before he flopped onto his back. "We should brush our teeth and, like, gargle and shit." He threw an arm over his eyes, looking like he'd rather die than move.

"Does your head hurt?" Derek asked with a bit of a smile.

"There's a rock concert in my skull, and everyone's moshing," Stiles mewed pathetically.

"Poor baby," Derek said, his face splitting into a larger grin when Stiles glared at him. He pushed himself and grabbed Stiles's hands. "Come on. Let's go brush our teeth at least."

"Nooooo," Stiles whined as he was dragged off the mattress and had to right himself or end up on the floor. "You're so mean to me." He tucked himself against Derek's side as they made the short journey to the bathroom. It was good Derek had one upstairs, because a trip down those spiral steps in their condition would have ended in broken bones.

"I know. I'm awful," Derek replied as he steered Stiles through the door and towards the sink. He didn't turn on the light, figuring that Stiles was photosensitive right now, instead letting the sunlight streaming through the small rectangular window high in the shower light their way.

"The worst," Stiles mumbled as he dug his toothbrush and toothpaste out of his toiletries bag. 

They dueled momentarily with their brushes under the sink tap, before they both stared tiredly at the darkened mirror, the sound of brushing filling the air. They had their hips against the counter, using it as support because fuck standing on your own power when you're hungover. It was a miracle that they didn't whack their heads together when they both leaned down to spit at the same time. 

Stiles started to rustle through his bag again, searching, and soon he made a little noise of discontent and drew his eyebrows together. Derek watched him for a second, before he grabbed his mouthwash and offered it to him on a hunch. Stiles looked at it a second then smiled sweetly, taking it and dishing himself out a portion in the little attached cup then knocking it back. 

Derek took the mouthwash back and managed to get some in his mouth before he nearly spat it as Stiles started to gargle all exaggeratedly like a cartoon character. He managed to swirl the mouthwash around, huffing out little breaths through his nose while trying not to laugh. How did Stiles get anything done? He was so fucking ridiculous.

Once Stiles was done, he spat the turned right around to hobble back over to the bed and fall onto it. Derek followed after a minute and reached down to touch Stiles's wild hair. "You going back to sleep?"

Stiles nodded straight into the pillow, making a muffled sound.

With a smile spreading his lips, Derek brushed his fingers down the back of Stiles's neck, earning a little shiver. "I'm going to check on the others."

Stiles let out a long sigh that seemed to liquify his bones and allow him to sink deeper into the mattress.

Derek made his way down the stairs, slowly because he seemed to be about as graceful as a newborn fawn at the moment. Everyone was more or less where he left them, except Jackson, who had either fallen off the side of the air mattress or had been pushed by Lydia, so he was stomach down with his cheek smooshed against the floor, drooling. Lydia had claimed their blanket for herself, wrapped up like a crepe so only her toes and hair were showing.

On the same mattress, Scott was the big spoon to Kira's tiny spoon. She had her face mostly hidden in the blanket, and he was breathing through his mouth and accidentally eating her long hair. 

Allison and Isaac had the other mattress to themselves and were sprawled across it like a pair of starfish. Allison looked sixteen again, the hardness that had taken over her face chased away by slumber. Isaac had his cheek pillowed on her hand, snuffling in his sleep against her wrist.

Danny, Ethan and Aiden were a haphazard creature with twelve limbs on the couch. Derek wasn't sure how they were going to get out of that tangle, but it would probably be amusing to watch.

He headed into the kitchen, opening up the fridge and started to pile water bottles into his arms. As he was deciding whether or not to make two trips or risk dropping them all, he heard shuffling behind him and looked over to see Danny in the archway, rubbing his eye and looking as ruffled as Derek had ever seen him. He'd splashed a witch with boiling holy water once without displacing a hair on his head, so that was an impressive feat.

"You throw one hell of a party, Miguel," Danny said with a smile, and Derek huffed before smiling back. "Need a hand?"

"Yeah, thanks," Derek replied, handing a few water bottles over to him. They proceeded to walk around their sleeping pack members and leave the water within reach for them. Derek went up the stairs, less like a bumbling buffoon this time, and set the last bottle on the side table for his snoring Stiles. When he got back down the stairs, Danny was staring at the sleeping twins with a fond look on his.

"I kind of want to draw on their faces," Danny said softly.

Derek tried not to chuckle too loud. "I'm going to go to Waffle House and get everyone breakfast," he said, looking around for where he tossed his shoes.

"I'll go with you," Danny said, before he glanced around too. "Once I find my shirt. I chucked it when people started licking each other last night." 

Derek found Danny's shirt about the time Danny found his shoes, and they spent long moments trying to open the metal door quietly so they could leave. But everyone was pretty much dead to the world, so they didn't stir. They drove to the nearest Waffle House and deliberated for a while over the menu.

"We should probably get everything," Danny said lightly. "We are feeding a pack of wolves and one Stiles."

"Stiles will be happy if there are bacon and hashbrowns," Derek agreed. "And Scott will want enough scrambled eggs to feed an army."

"The twins like breakfast tacos."

Derek hummed. "Lydia?"

"Fruit bowl and wheat toast with strawberry jam. And Jackson likes chocolate chip waffles." Danny grinned like he was remembering something from his childhood.

They ended up ordering everything, making sure there was enough of all of the items that everyone could have their pick. When Derek was pulling out his wallet to pay for the order, Danny beat him to it.

"You paid for us to get hammered. Let me pay for breakfast." Danny was back to being gracefully unflappable.

"But—"

"It's done. Deal." Danny took his card back from the server behind the register.

"Can you...?" Derek tried, letting the words hang.

"Afford it?" Danny finished for him, and Derek nodded. "Yeah. I do information gathering for this law firm, mostly so defense attorneys can discredit witnesses. If it's on the internet, I'll find it. It's good for spare cash while I'm taking classes."

"Is that legal?" Derek found himself asking.

Danny tilted his eyes toward the ceiling, evaluating. "Quasi," he eventually decided with a nod.

That wasn't worrying or anything.

When their food was ready, it came in four large bags, and they took two each, loading them into the trunk of the Camaro and heading back to the loft. They tried to open the metal door softly again, but once they got it open they found there was no need. Everyone was awake and moving around. Mostly. Isaac and Allison were huddled in their blanket, sipping from their water bottles and looking tired. Stiles, Scott and Kira were sitting on the floor in front of the TV, playing something on the Xbox that involved lots of explosions.

Once everyone realized that Derek and Danny had food, they pounced. "Let us get to the kitchen at least," Danny scolded, managing to successfully play keep-away with the twins.

They got to the island and divvied up the food, and Derek was happy that the Waffle House had given them about twenty packs of plastic forks and knives, because he was pretty sure that he didn't have enough silverware himself. There definitely wasn't enough space at his dinky little dining table, but people seemed tom busy stuffing their faces while standing to care much.

Derek watched Stiles dig through his fridge and then dump nearly all of the bottle of ketchup he found onto his plate of hashbrowns and bacon. Then he leaned up against the counter next to Derek, their elbows brushing. They were all quiet as they ate, probably because everyone was still half asleep or nursing a hangover. At one point Jackson muttered 'Delicious chocolatey goodness' with his mouth full of chocolate chip waffles, but he didn't seem to realize he said it out loud and no one did anything more than smirk or snort in response.

After their 2pm breakfast, people started filtering out the door. Derek got hugged a lot, which was new, but apparently his pack was feeling particularly bonded since they'd all gotten nearly black out drunk and no one had died. Kira was shy about her hug, unlike Lydia, who crushed his windpipe. Allison held him lightly around the shoulders and kissed his cheek, murmuring about how glad she was that he was happy, making him smile into her neck.

Soon all that was left was him and Stiles. "What do you want to do for the rest of the day?" Derek asked him, reaching out to touch his hand.

Stiles laced their fingers together then moved closer to smoosh himself against Derek's front. "Sit in the dark and veg out," he said directly to Derek's nipple. "My head is still all hurty-stabby-poundy."

Derek snorted, running his hands along Stiles's back, before he turned them toward the couch and walked them over to sit down. “Okay, let's watch TV at a low volume or something.”

“Ngh,” Stiles grunted as he sank into the cushions, his eyes following Derek as he sat down too. Then he pulled his feet up onto the couch and flopped over Derek's lap like a dead fish. “How about you watch TV, and I'll just lie here and let you massage my scalp or something?” he suggested into Derek's denim-covered thigh.

Laughing a little, Derek set his hand in Stiles's hair and rubbed his fingertips into the roots. Stiles sighed and relaxed completely against his legs. “Okay, if that's what you want.” He grabbed the remote with the other hand and flipped on the TV, finding something without too many loud noises and explosions or flashing lights.

That was how the rest of the day went. They lounged until they were hungry again, then they filled up on snack foods that Derek had bought for the party but hadn't been consumed. They showered together, tiredly touching and soaping, before they collapsed in bed with their hair still damp.

* * *

This time when Derek woke up, it was to gentle sunlight streaming through the windows and birds chirping on the balcony. Oh, and Stiles's gaping mouth snoring. He must have still been recovering from his hangover, because he was completely dead to the world. Derek sat up and just looked.

Stiles's hair was sticking up in crazy directions because he'd slept on it wet. There was a line of drool running down his cheek from his mouth. He gave a precious little snort as Derek watched and turned his head against the pillow, imprecisely rubbing his upturned nose. (Derek really liked his nose.) He had kicked off the covers in the night and was lying stark naked with his long limbs spread out like the bed was his. They hadn't bothered with clothes before tumbling into the sheets.

Furthermore, Stiles was having a _situation._ His morning wood was curving up against his stomach, the head a deep pink with a pearl of precome at the slit. Derek licked his lips as he stared at it, before he looked at Stiles's face. He leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Hey, you,” he murmured against his skin. “Wake up.”

Stiles made an incoherent noise that ended in a snort, turning his head away.

Derek smiled, before he started to kiss at his neck, featherlight at first then with more pressure and nipping as Stiles started to rouse. “You're hard,” he murmured into his skin, trailing his fingers down his tight belly and touch his cock. Stiles sighed, kitten soft, and his hips twitched, so Derek took him in hand. “Do you want me to suck you off?”

Stiles let out a shuddering breath through parted lips, before he let out a sweet little 'mmhm' and put his head back, eyes still closed since he was half asleep.

Derek took the opportunity to swipe his tongue along his elegant, pale neck, before kissing his way down. Stiles's breaths were deep and long like he was moments from falling back to sleep, making Derek smile against his skin as he moved downwards. He took Stiles's cock into his mouth, swallowing it down to the hilt and smiling as best he could with stretched lips when Stiles shuddered and let out a tiny mewl.

Keeping his tongue flat against the hot skin in his mouth, Derek bobbed his head slow, in no hurry to get Stiles off when we was all sleep soft and sweet. He splayed one hand over Stiles's flat stomach as the other cupped his balls, rolling them gently together and caressing the thin, warm skin. Stiles sighed, hips rolling up a little, and Derek swallowed around him to indicate that was more than fine.

As Derek sucked and licked, Stiles started to make these little noises like whines in the back of his throat, barely audible above the wet sound of his cock moving in and out of Derek's mouth. He didn't even try to hold down Stiles's hips as they rocked up and down in a slow, easily rhythm, instead sucking on him lightly and swirling his tongue around Stiles's cockhead. Derek loved the taste of his arousal, how his precome smeared along the length of his tongue and touched the back of his throat.

"Ah," Stiles breathed out, before he bent his knee and spread his leg out with a silky sound of skin against fabric. "Derek." His whisper was accompanied with a hand pawing up Derek's arm and shoulder before sinking into his hair.

Derek could have likely done this for hours. Stiles's cock was a familiar, comfortable weight on his tongue, filling up his mouth without stretching out his lips uncomfortably. He bobbed his head slow, dragging his lips up and down as he sucked, his cheeks hollowing out. He played with Stiles's balls with his fingers, rubbing at the thin skin and rolling the orbs together.

Derek wasn't sure how long it took before Stiles's sounds turned insistent. He'd lost track of time. Stiles hissed something softly, his hand squeezing in Derek's hair, before Derek's mouth was filling up with bittersweet come. Derek swallowed, greedy, and continued to suck at him until he was squirming with the overstimulation. He pulled back, chuckling as he kissed his way up to Stiles's mouth.

Stiles made a disgruntled noise into Derek's mouth. "Laugh all you want," he mumbled before swatting halfheartedly at Derek's shoulder. "You're the one with jizz breath."

Derek breathed out a hot cloud onto Stiles's face then laughed at his expression. They eventually made it into the bathroom to brush their teeth and take a shower. Under the hot stream, Stiles soaped up his inner thighs and then encouraged Derek to thrust between them until he came. 

Even though it was ten minutes til noon, they went out for pancakes at iHop. Stiles got his full of chocolate chips, which he drowned in maple syrup, and Derek got a high stack of blueberry. They talked about casual things, like how Scott and Kira were going to a water park later in the summer and that Stiles was invited, which meant Derek was going and had no choice in the matter. Derek was looking forward to Stiles and Scott trying to drown each other in the wave pool as he and Kira bobbed along in inner tubes.

"We should go to the preserve and walk around," Stiles said as they were pulling out of the restaurant and onto the road.

"Why?" Derek asked.

"Well, it's summer, so I should probably get my fill of nature now since we're going to be marathoning Battlestar Galactica like we said we would. We probably won't leave the loft for weeks."

Derek couldn't exactly argue with that logic.

So they went to the preserve and wandered around. At one point, Stiles wanted to climb a tree but ended up just hugging the trunk since he couldn't shimmy his way up to the nearest branch. Derek didn't laugh... much.

They ended up at that lake, and Derek heard a quick gasp before he looked over and saw Stiles shedding his clothes like they were on fire. Derek lifted his brows as Stiles tore off his boxers, naked as the day he was born. His feet thudded against the wood planks, before he let out a 'whoohoo!' and went cannonballing into the still water. He reemerged with a laughing gasp, shouting for Derek to join him.

Well, at least they could cross skinny dipping off their list.

Derek jumped off the end of the pier, did a forward somersault, then jackknifed into the water. He swam around Stiles’s kicking legs with ease, before coming up in front of him. He just smiled as he was called a showoff, then squawked when he was splashed. Thus began the great dunking competition. 

They continued to goof off, challenging each other to races and seeing who could do the best dives. Derek won on the majority, but he let Stiles have his victories too, especially when Stiles swam like he was dying. After a while they ended up on the small pier, spread out with their fingers laced together.

"I'm glad I'm here," Stiles said as they watched the sun sink behind the tree line.

"Me too," Derek replied, squeezing his fingers a little. "Are you ready for tonight?" 

Stiles's grin could have be called dastardly. "Oh, yes."

* * *

Back at the loft, Derek couldn't have predicted what kind of "ready" Stiles was; he could only blink at what Stiles showed him. "What is that?"

"It's a tail," Stiles said, shaking the fluffy thing at him. It was attached to—oh, that was a butt plug. 

Now Derek understood. "And you want me to wear it."

"That's the point," Stiles said with a snort. He dropped the plug onto the bed and went  searching through his bag again. He came up again with a pair of lacy red panties and some red stockings, grinning. "Get it?"

"No, Stiles, you are far too subtle," Derek said in the deadest of deadpan voices.

Stiles blew a raspberry at him, smiling all the same. "Too bad Little Red Riding Hood doesn't have a tail," he said, running his fingers over the fur of the plug's attachment.

Derek smiled, running his fingers up Stiles's arm. "How about we switch?" he asked, leaning in to rub his nose against Stiles's neck. He smelled like sunshine, fresh dirt and a tangy thing that was all him. Derek wanted to bury himself in it.

"Yeah?" Stiles asked, soft and breathy.

"Then they can watch as I open you up with my fingers then stuff you full of the plug," Derek murmured into his ear, and Stiles made a small animal whine.

Stiles licked his lips. "Then I can fuck you, right?" 

"Anything you want," Derek agreed, pulling back just enough to tug Stiles's shirt over his head.

"You sure?" Stiles asked once he was free. "'Cause I kind of want a new car."

Derek bit into Stiles shoulder with a growl, causing him to let out a shrieking laugh. Secretly, he planned on finding out just what kind of car Stiles wanted, because that sad Jeep of his was just barely chugging along.

They both got completely undressed, and Derek regarded the stockings with trepidation as Stiles set up the laptop on a high chair at the end of the bed. They put on each other's masks, and Stiles looked adorable with black around his eyes and little triangle ears.

"I'm the big bad wolf!" Stiles announced, clawing at the air as he 'grr'ed and 'rawr'ed.

Derek rolled his eyes with a tolerant sigh.

After situating themselves at the end of the bed, Stiles logged into his channel where a few of the regular viewers were chatting away. Several more people, both new and not, were silent.

Red24: Hello, hello! How's everyone doing?

VirxLondo: Good!

Rainbowtentacles: Better now you're online.

BigC4U: You switched masks!

VirxLondo: Oh!

BigC4U: This is messing with my senses.

Stiles grinned wide, and it was especially devious with the black around his eyes.

Red24: We decided to switch roles this time.

BigC4U: I'm down for this.

Red24: I got something special too.

As everyone let out a round of 'what?'s, Stiles lifted up the plug, shaking it and making the tail wag back and forth. Their audience was deeply amused, and Stiles was even more so as he picked up the fluffy tip and tickled Derek's nose, making him snuffle and rub at it.

"Such a cutie," Stiles said, kissing his nose too, which made Derek smile.

“Am not, you are,” Derek told him, catching his lips.

The laptop pinged, and they looked over.

VirxLondo: Ew, gross. o3o

BigC4U: What is that?

VirxLondo: It’s a kissy face.

Rainbowtentacles: Yeah, it’s eyes and lips.

BigC4U: I don’t see it.

Red24: Omg.

Stiles was giggling, his hand covering his cheek as they watched the others try to explain emotes to BigC4U. He was not getting it, and the longer the conversation went on, the more Stiles shook with laughter. Even Derek was snorting softly into his shoulder. He could see how it was a kissy face, so he was more or less proud of himself for not being completely in the dark.

Ilykboypussy: will u all just stfu

Ilyboypussy: i came here to c diks n ass not this shit

Everything stopped immediately, silence falling like a blanket over the chat and Stiles and Derek. Then, forgetting himself, Derek began to growl softly, and he only realized he was doing it when Stiles put his hand over his mouth. 

RedRider1: Hey, how about you shut the fuck up?

RedRider1: Your attitude is as appalling as your grasp on grammar.

Ilykboypussy: fuk u

RedRider1: Ow! That really stings! Look, asshat, you’re new to this channel, obviously. I only came in after they made a tumblr, but there’s one thing I know; we’re here for the chemistry between Red and Wolf as much as the sex. If you’re looking for dead-eyed, empty fucking, you can go elsewhere. 

Ilykboypussy has left the channel

RedRider1: Aw, yeah!

Stiles let out a snorting laugh, and Derek was glad to hear it. He hadn’t seen anyone be this rude in the time he’d starting watching Stiles, but he had figured they were out there. Stiles was bound to attract them now that he was gaining notoriety. 

RedRider1: It’s okay that I chased him off, right?

Stiles opened up a window with the list of all the names in the channel and nodded after a moment. “He hadn’t paid anything yet, so he was going to get automatically removed before it got good anyway.”

Derek lifted his head off of stiles’s shoulder. “That’s how it works?”

“Yup,” Stiles said with a pop to the P. “It a time limit thing.”

“Hm.”

“The more you know,” Stiles sang, miming the shooting star with his hand.

“You are such a dork,” Derek said, catching Stiles’s jaw before he could say anything and pulling him into a kiss. He didn’t let Stiles go until they were both breathing harder and Stiles’s lips were plump and red after being bitten and licked.

“Mmkay, sex time is now,” Stiles said in a rush, throwing one leg over Derek’s lap, his round ass to the webcam. He grabbed the lube and put it in Derek’s hand, before he sank his fingers into the dark strands of Derek’s hair, catching his mouth again.

It was a little more difficult than Derek had imagined it would be to lube his fingers blind with a creature in his lap trying to suck his tongue out of his head, but he managed in. He dragged his slicked fingers up and down the cleft of that beautiful ass, before he grabbed one cheek with his free hand and exposed the furrowed skin of his hole. Derek rubbed his fingers around it in tantalizing circles, waiting for Stiles to groan impatiently before he slid one finger inside of him.

Dereklicked Stiles’s throat as he tipped his head back, nibbling at the skin while moving his finger slowly in and out. It wasn’t long before Stiles was wiggling back and forth and trying to fuck down on his finger, so Derek gave him another, spreading them without preamble. He smiled at the noise Stiles made.

At three fingers, Stiles’s hands were clenching and relaxing in Derek’s hair rhythmically. “Fuck,” he said, the word falling from his mouth like he couldn’t help it. “Pl—please, D—you have to—” 

Whilst being just a bit smug about rendering Stiles incoherent, Derek removed his fingers. Stiles’s head fell onto his shoulder, panting hard for breath as Derek oozed some lube onto the tip of the butt plug and slicked it up. He watched in the small view window as the plug stretched Stiles’s hole then tightened over the middle. Then it was all fur.

“Ah, fuck,” Stiles moaned, his ass cheeks clenching as he no doubt tested the girth of the plug.

Derek just grinned, feeling pleased that Stiles was taking deep breaths and was flushed all over. His expression didn’t change when Stiles looked at him and narrowed his amber eyes.

“What are you feeling so accomplished about?” Stiles asked, his voice low and a bit hoarse, and that just made Derek grin wider. He really couldn’t help it at all. Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, sliding one hand into the short hairs on the back of Derek’s head. “I’ll show you.”

Derek didn’t even get a chance to ask before his head was jerked to the side and Stiles sank his teeth into his neck just short of breaking the skin. Derek let out a noise close to a howl, and it was sheer luck that he didn’t come into the panties right there. He went as loose as a limpet, like someone replaced removed all his bones so there was nothing left but the soft marrow.

“That’s what I thought,” Stiles side as he laid Derek down and gently pushed his face away from the camera.

Derek’s eyes must have been glowing. Shit. He couldn’t control himself when Stiles did that. He hadn’t even known that was such a big thing for him. Stiles in charge was good, yes, but Stiles making his wolf submit? Fuck. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing.

Stiles loomed over him, and when Derek turned his calm eyes up to him, he looked concerned. “You okay?” he whispered, too low for the laptop mic but easy for a pair of wolf ears.

“Do it again,” Derek croaked, before he swallowed. “I want you to bite me. Everywhere.”

A bright smile flashed like lightning across his gorgeous face, before he started to do just that. As he covered Derek’s neck in marks, Derek wished—through a haze of pleasure—that he’d learned how to control his healing locally like Peter. He wanted to keep these marks, didn’t want them to go away in minutes like they were bound to do. 

Stiles traveled downward, dragging his lips, licking and nipping until he reached a nipple, when he caught and pulled none-too-gently. Derek moaned, putting his head back as his hips twitched up, causing the lace to slide over his rigid dick. They were going to ruin those damn things. They were going to end up torn, stained with come or both. 

Stiles’s mouth was hot against his navel, tongue plundering the hole before dragging down through the dark trail of hair. He didn’t pull down the panties as he got to them, oh no, of course not. Instead he soaked the already come damp fabric with his spit, a maddening suction that was just short of actually pleasurable.

“Bet you don’t want me to bite you here,” Stiles said in a low murmur just for his ears, and Derek whined because honestly he didn’t fucking know at the moment. “What to do with my pretty Little Riding Hood?” he asked, louder, which meant he was asking for suggestions. 

The laptop pinged a couple times, but Derek didn’t look. He just laid there, belly bared and yielding like his inner wolf. 

Stiles appeared in his vision again, looking every bit a sly fox. “They think I should spank you, sexy,” he said, rubbing his hands along Derek’s thighs. “You haven’t been taught enough of a lesson. So, hop to it.” He lifted his hand and brought down with a loud sound of impact on Derek’s thigh.

Derek jerked, the sting fading almost immediately, but it was more than enough to get him to roll over, rocking his hips against the mattress as Stiles’s settled on the backs of his thighs. God, Derek almost wanted to get on his hands and knees and present his ass to Stiles in the most obscene display. He probably would have had Stiles not been holding him down. He didn’t feel even the tiniest bit ashamed about it either.

“Ah, look at that,” Stiles said as he pulled the panties down just enough to reveal Derek’s ass. All it did in the front was fold the lace over his dick, squeezing and trapping it. Derek could only moan into his folding arms as Stiles used his long, sure fingers to massage the globes of his ass. 

“All mine,” Stiles breathed out, barely loud enough to Derek to hear, and he whimpered in response.

When the strikes came, Derek wasn’t prepared for the force that was behind them. He let out a startled sound at the first one, and the burn didn’t have enough time to fade before the other cheek got the same treatment. He knew Stiles was strong, had seen the power of his will so many times over, but he’d never thought of him as particularly physical. Goddamn, was he ever so happy to be surprised. 

“Ah, ah, nng,” was pretty much the sum of the noises that were pouring out of Derek’s mouth. There was a shout or two thrown in there too, especially when Stiles paused in his hits to drag his nails down Derek’s spine. He arched like a cat with a cry at that.

Derek didn’t realised how hard he was breathing until silence fell, Stiles’s leaving his hands on his ass, no doubt feeling the heat of his reddened skin fade slowly. His throat felt so dry. Had he been screaming? He didn’t even know. His dick felt like it was made of metal, and all he wanted to do was rut into the covers. He swallowed a few times, licking his lips and hazardly a look over his shoulder.

If Stiles were grinning any wider, his face would have split in half.

“Shut up,” Derek croaked, narrowing his eyes in a way he knew wasn’t intimidating. Not when he was flushed head to toe and panting.

“Nope,” Stiles replied, grabbing Derek’s hips and showing that strength again by pulling him up onto his knees. Mostly. Derek just let his front half drag across the sheets as his butt went up into the air. He couldn’t help it; his arms were jelly. 

The panties were pushed down more, just enough to expose him, though they stayed curled over his dick. Derek folded his arms and laid his face in the crook of his arm, watching as Stiles lube up a pair of fingers. He could only moan into his bicep as they sank into him at the same time, hardly any burn since he’d whole body felt loose like he’d just had a massage instead of a hard spanking.

Stiles must have noticed how pliant he was, because he only did so much perfunctuary stretching until there was the sound of a condom wrapper being torn open. And soon a blunt cockhead was pushing Derek, making him let out a low sound of greed and pleasure.

Derek straightened his arms out in front of him, curling his fingers into the covers and thrusting his hips back hard enough that Stiles grunted with the impact. He didn’t need to ask, because Stiles got the picture, grabbing his hips and launching into the hard and deep fucking that Derek _needed_. 

All kinds of obscenities and cries fell were punched out of Derek lips as Stiles drove into him again and again with the force of a train piston. He didn’t even try to censor himself. What was the point, really? He very rarely felt uninhibited, and lately it was always with Stiles. He may as well know just what he did to him.

As Derek was wishing he could a hand on his dick, Stiles leaned down, his cockhead dragging hard over Derek’s prostate, and hissed into his ear, “I wish I could knot you.”

Derek didn’t need a helping hand after that. Bliss crashed into him like a breaking storm wave, and it was all he could not to shift as he let out a noise that his neighbors a block down could probably hear. He definitely ruined the panties then. It was all he could do to keep sort of upright, his thighs shaking as Stiles thrust a few more times then stilled. Then they just flopped flat on the bed.

Stiles started giggling after a minute, and Derek just made an unintelligible noise, fully ready to go the fuck to sleep right there. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” Stiles said heavily, apparently figuring out his plan, because he pushed himself up—how? Derek wasn’t sure—and moved around out of Derek’s line of sight. Well, Derek’s eyes were closed, but anyway. There was typing then the tell tale sound of the laptop closing. “Turn over, sleepywolf,” he said, helping Derek do just that, before he pulled the panties off of him. “You look practically comatose,” he continued as he tugged off the stockings.

Derek just lazily flapped a hand at him, before he lifted his head as best he could so Stiles could get the mask off of him. He tried to reach for Stiles, to pull him down so he could cuddle him for the foreseeable future, but Stiles evaded his uncoordinated grasping.

“Now, now, cuddlewolf, you can cling when you’re the right way on the bed,” he scolded, still smiling, and Derek made a noise of discontent as he just kind of bellycrawled up until his head hit a pillow. Only then did Stiles press up against him, their arms encircling each other and their legs tangling. Stiles sighed happily, but after a moment, he perked up again. “Oh, the blanket.”

“Nope,” Derek grumbled, tightening his grip. He snuffled against Stiles’s hair.

Stiles laughed. “You’re lucky it’s summer.”

“Mm,” was Derek’s noise of agreement as he settled further into the pillows. He let out a long sigh, ready to settle in for hibernation, even if that wasn’t a wolf thing. He was prepared to be the first to start that trend.

But at Stiles’s soft sound of assent, Derek opened an eye to look at his face. He looked so soft, relaxed and completely at ease with his eyelashes fanned out across his cheeks and his plush lips slightly parted with his breathing. He wished he could see this face every morning when he woke up and at night before he slept.

“I love you,” he said, surprising himself with the ease of it.

Stiles’s eyes opened with a few blinks, staring at him for a moment that didn’t make Derek nervous or regretful for a second. If anything it steeled him. He was not taking it back. Though, it was still a relief when Stiles smiled at him, so sweet.

“I love you too,” Stiles said, shifting all the close to press their lips together. “Silly.”

Derek didn’t mind being silly if he was silly for Stiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks forever to [WhatTheHale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale) for the read and kicking me in the butt to make sure I finished this thing.
> 
> And so we've reached the end of the plot! I have an _ultra short_ epilogue in mind, but it won't add anything but a bit more porn. xD


End file.
